


A different kind of motivation

by asterCrash



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Orgasm Denial, Self-Denial, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 06:10:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3757408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterCrash/pseuds/asterCrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are the rogue of void. You know just what's missing and you know just how to get rid of that empty feeling inside you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A different kind of motivation

Your name is Roxy Lalonde and right now you are locked in a room. This hardly means you couldn't just leave, as a wily rogue of void your many impressive talents include being able to not be somewhere if you don't want to be. So you could leave any time, but thanks to the Batterwitch's control on Gcat and Jake's furry grandma you wouldn't be out for long. So for now you are locked in this room and this room is where you will stay. Every so often dog girl comes back to bark at you if you're not working on using your voidey powers to un-de-summon the Batterwitch's spiky ball of doom, or offer praise for whatever half formed pile of mush you actually did manage to pop out of non-existence. She's weirdly supportive for the authoritarian servant of a nut-job alien.

Days pass while you toil away. Weeks even. Months? Hours? You're the rogue of void not time so you don't really keep track. Dog girl comes and goes, never bothers to use the door, just blinks in and out in that freakish green energy thing. Just strobe lights, the faint scent of pumpkins and bam, girl's off her leash and in your personal space. Some of the time she just looks at you and leaves without so much as a woof, most of the time she'll ask why you're lying in your ballin green block fort rather than spiky ballin it up. The first time you told her "easy Fido" she nuked your fort so you kind of got with the program after then.

This time though is something else. She says the Condesce is getting bored of waiting and wants some progress. She didn't want to politely wait for you to get your voidey mojo on, she zapped right behind you almost as soon as she was in the room, whispering in your ear that she was not going to move until you gave her something worth bringing back. It would have been hella threatening if she hadn't followed that up with an involuntary woof. 

So now you're here. Locked in a room with Lassie's less heroic cousin, her breath running hot down your neck. You definitely do not feel an involuntary shiver run down your spine and if you did it would be entirely from how nervous this situation is making you. You're certainly not thinking about how this is the fourth human (well human-enough) you've actually ever met and she's pressed up closer to you than any of your friends ever had. You are actively avoiding thinking about that tropical scent she carries with her into a room that is so reminiscent of the perfect mixture of Jake and Jane. You're don't want to think about your besties right now, probably stuck in their own predicaments and being honest you're still a little mad about the way they all got caught up in their own drama and ditched you. Crazy alien sugar rushes aside, they'd been so caught up in their stupid love triangle that you've spent most of the last six months hanging out with Fefetasprite.

You feel a low vibration before you hear your observer start to growl. It's husky and a little more breathy than animal and it's right up against your ear. It almost comes off like purring but you know she meant it as a warning. You take a quick breath in and out, trying not to freak out when your back brushes up against her, and put your hands into the starting position you think works best for your de-voiding powers. This is going to take more concentration than you think you're capable of right now but you absolutely want the Batterwitch's bloodhound to see what you can do. The air slowly moves away as you begin to feel the absence in the world, the spot where an object doesn't exist. You just need to hold on to the idea of that object, focus on the fact that it doesn't exist in this specific location and this specific time. As soon as you know in your mind exactly where that object isn't you tell the universe to quickly look behind itself and make a grab for that sense of non-existence.

You breath out slowly as you open your eyes and see the object you just yoinked out of non-existence. A perfectly formed, generic green hand, flipping its middle finger at the dog girl looking over your shoulder. You feel tremendously smug. Doing your best to sound courageous and defiant you toss it to the other side of the room and tell the mutt to fetch. It doesn't even hit the wall before she flashes to the other side of the room. You catch a glimpse of her holding your masterpiece in her hand and then in another blink of her blinding green light the hand has been broken up into a thousand tiny green blocks shimmering in the air above her own claws. You do your best not to gulp.

In a second she's on you. You don't even hit the ground, she just moves the space around you so that you're already lying down and she's pinning you to your cell floor. Those long, sharp fingernails of hers dig into your shoulders and your legs are trapped beneath her knees, spread out like a starfish with what is probably a very goofy expression on your face. She's growling in earnest now, not a warning, this is a category ten big unfriendly dog who bites children for no reason kind of growl. You can see all the fangs glinting in her mouth as she leans down closer to your face and no hormones this is absolutely not the time. You most DEFINITELY are not thinking that this is in fact the most intimate contact you've had since Frigglish used to sleep on you. You absolutely refuse to this about the long lonely nights you've spent in the Medium with only the ghost of two aliens for company. You do your best not to think how much you'd prefer not to be sober for this but months of sobriety (barring candy fuelled relapses) aren't enough to hold you back from wishing you had something to drink.

Instead of the familiar heat of whatever your mother left lying around the house you feel a different kind of warmth spreading down your body. You do your best to ignore this because you are quite certain you are not sufficiently messed up in the head to be enjoying being held down by a half-dog half-girl all-goddess crackling green monstrosity from a parallel dimension. You're fairly certain if your mother could see this she'd have written a stack more best-sellers than those already littering your home somewhere out in the Incipisphere. You're almost beginning to buy your own denial of the ways this is turning you on when the girl on top pauses her growling. 

For a sickening second there's just silence between the two of you, tension so thick in the air you kinda want to make small talk so it'll go away. Then she sniffs. Once, twice, long drags hunting out a scent she thinks is in the room. There is no way in hell she is smelling what you think she's smelling, but she slowly turns her gaze back to you and as you lock eyes you can tell she is smelling exactly what you think she's smelling.

She leans past you, fangs flashing across your vision and whispers huskily, “it seems we've been trying to motivate you all wrong”. There's no threat to it now, her voice is like honey running in your ears and your breath hitches on every word she feeds you. She runs her tongue down your jawline in a way that's nothing like being licked by a dog. You shiver from the contact and her claws ease out of your shoulders, though you can still feel her, heavy and pressing down on you. She spreads her knees out and sits down, right on your hips and a new-found sensitivity courses through you. Where the two of you touch you can feel the bend in space as she shapes the world between you, making it feel like a thousand constant prickles and caresses. If she couldn't smell you before she would definitely be able to smell you now, you're sweating in your god tier outfit and you know that between her power set and yours those clothes could be off you in seconds if you wanted. 

She ever so gently lifts her arms off your shoulders, tentatively seeing if you'd try to get up if she gave you a little freedom. You lie where you are and do your best to take deep breaths. You are, for the moment, quite happy to be compliant. She rests her hands on the lower part of your stomach, at the sensitive line just before soft skin becomes the hard bones of your hips. You can feel the warmth of your blood rushing to your skin to meet with her tingling green touch. She rubs gently out to the side as if she can't decide whether she's about to tickle you or send those hands somewhere else. You're so far beyond denying yourself here, you let out a quiet moan that's only a little bit involuntary. That creepy grin of hers only spreads wider when she can hear you enjoying yourself.

You know behind the movie monster special effects and the villainous dialogue she's probably just as new at this as you are. You wonder how much control she has in this, whether this is just her darker impulses running free or whether the Batterwitch is in there looking out of her eyes. At this point you're not sure you could stop yourself even if it was the latter. You wanted your first time to be with one of your friends, hell, how often had you imagined Jane in this position? Or yourself on top of Jake? Even Dirk, though he made it perfectly clear during your numerous clumsy advances that he wouldn't be interested in that kind of thing with you, even if he was into girls, which was the nicest way of saying “you're the last girl on earth and I still wouldn't”. So fuck those guys, you guess. If your first time is with evil space furry then who gives a shit, it's not the end of the world because that happened three hundred years ago.

She knows she's got you when you look up and meet her eyes. She knows what you want and you know it too. You are the rogue of void. You know just what's missing and you know just how to get rid of that empty feeling inside you. You don't even need to beg to get the message across, she flashes you to the other side of the room and suddenly you're reclined back on a pile of cushions and she's between your legs, breath hot on your tights. It is so much more intense than any of your fantasies and you're quite certain you're going to die from anticipation if she doesn't get down to business soon. But she waits. She waits and waits and waits and waits and you are absolutely sure you're going to lose your mind before she finally mouths to you across the crotch of your pajamas “you know what I want”. And for a moment you don't, because you're fairly sure your brain went out the window the second this whole sexy episode started. After a few panicked heartbeats your brain comes back from its vacation to teenage hormone party town and you remember the stupid spiky ball that the stupid Condesce wants to resurrect her stupid species. Your I-can't-believe-its-not-bestiality buddy is absent mindedly mouthing at the air above your pants as if she's trying to decide how she'll come at things when you finally give her a physical progress report to bring back to her owner like the world's dumbest game of fetch.

Somehow the distractions coming from your body and your captor alike hit that point where the high score gets too high and drops back down to zero and your mind goes blank. In that instant you know what you want more than anything in the world. You see the matriorb, not-existing right in front of you. You see it so clearly in your mind's eye the image of it burns your vision, like looking into the sun. You see that paper-thin layer of non-existence floating over your beautiful, perfect matriorb and you know in your heart you're going to steal that veil right this instance. You tell the universe that it's got something on its shirt and like a sucker it looks down. You flick it in the nose and yank that fabric of unreality right out from under its smug feet.

It's not perfect, but it's your best product to date, definitely an orb, definitely got spikes. A few of them don't stick out at the right angles, a few are just too small or too big, but all in all it is a damn sight closer to the shitty polaroid you have to work with than any of the other failures littered around your cell. You immediately hand your hard work over to the witch curled up in your lap and she gleefully takes it from your hands. You don't waste any time phasing your way out of your leggings in anticipation of what is definitely going to be the most erotic adventure of your life to date and look up at your new evil anthropomorphic bestie. You can see every last one of her teeth as she flashes you a Cheshire Cat grin and zaps out of the cell with your creation in her arms.

Your name is Roxy Lalonde and right now you are locked in a room, alone.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing fanfiction in a verrrry long time and first time writing smut ever. I know it sucks but any comments would be appreciated!


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